


Presents

by GrumpyJenn



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“At this time of year, traditionally, a lot of people will be speculating, at length, about the true meaning of Christmas. So let’s get that out of the way right now. It’s about presents. Yep, presents. And presents (as the Doctor would say) are cool. Presents are how we say we love each other in ways that aren’t only deep and heartfelt, but fiscally measurable.”</p><p>~Steven Moffat, Radio Times, December 2012 edition</p>
            </blockquote>





	Presents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kehwie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kehwie/gifts).



> Steven is wrong. It’s not always the fiscally measurable gifts we love... often it really _is_ the thought that counts...

_21 st December, 2012_

“Happy Christmas, River Song,” the card read, and Alex laughed as she opened the gift itself.

 _Oh, how very Matt_ , she thought as she surveyed the contents. Ornaments for the tree, although she was in a hotel in London and had none. _He knows I’m stuck away from Salome this Christmas, and he’s trying to cheer me up_.

A TARDIS and a sonic screwdriver, several Daleks with explosion marks he’d drawn in with a black felt marker around their eyestalks, a little K-9 that lit up and said _yes mistress_ , a tiny gun obviously meant to be River’s pulse pistol, and a cloth angel. He’d gotten at the stitching holding the angel’s hands together in prayer and sewed the hands to her face instead. But the sweetest part was a tree topper; instead of a star he had gotten a couple of action figures in Doctor and River costumes, complete with a tiny bow tie for the one and ridiculously huge curly hair for the other. The Doctor doll was holding an miniscule plant clearly meant to be mistletoe over his head, and Matt had fastened gift tags as speech balloons to each figure; his said _River Song, I could bloody kiss you!_ and hers said _Hmm... maybe when you’re older._

What a dear thing for him to do, she thought, and pulled out her mobile. _Thank you, Sweetie_ , she tapped, _Shouldn’t like it. Kinda do a bit. A_

She hadn’t even put the phone down before she got a response. _Oi! That’s my line! M_

Alex giggled to herself. He was really trying hard to cheer her up, wasn’t he? _I’ll think of you as I put them round my room, darling. A_

 _You’d better. M_ and then _Wait, no tree? What the hell, Alex? M_

_Hotel room, darling. I hadn’t known I would have the occasion to decorate a tree. A_

_Hmm... want to come to Mum and Dad’s with me? M_

And then the phone rang and it was Salome, and Alex forgot about the last text as she soaked up the time with her daughter. Off the mobile an hour later, she found herself depressed again, in spite of her best efforts at holiday cheer. She plugged in the mobile and sat, trying to concentrate on a script, but was distracted by the pile of ornaments on bed. Perhaps she should go get a tree, just a small one; no sense in wallowing in her own depression when she could do something about it. She’d learned _that_ lesson long ago. She walked to the tiny en-suite bath and fluffed her hair in front of the mirror, grabbed her coat and handbag, and headed for the door of her room.

Matt was standing just outside the door, one hand raised to knock and the other clutching a small potted Christmas tree and a large plastic bag from Tesco. He looked flustered for just an instant, but then smiled cheekily at her. “Hi, honey. I’m home,” he said, and gave her the hot-when-he’s-clever look out from under his eyebrows.

Alex responded automatically by looking at her wrist where a watch would be and saying, “And what sort of time do you call th--” but she choked on the last word. _God, how very sweet,_ she thought as she felt her eyes fill. “Matt, I... thank you.” Her voice was hoarse with suppressed emotion and she stood aside, holding the door open for him with one hand. “Come on in.”

“Any time, Kingston,” Matt said as he entered the room, barely managing not to trip over the tree he carried, his own feet, or the threshold. He set the tree down on a small table and added the Tesco bag to the pile of ornaments on the bed, then turned to look at Alex, who was still standing by the open door, staring at him with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Alex,” he said softly, crossing to her. “Right, come on then.” She let him lead her to the sofa at the foot of the bed and sat just as the door closed by itself.

“Thank you, Matt,” Alex said quietly. “I was just starting to feel sorry for myself, and your gift... it was so _sweet_ , and so kind and I...” She trailed off as he gathered her into a hug.

“I was just worried,” he confessed, “Because I thought maybe you were offended when I asked you to come with me to Christmas dinner with Mum and Dad; you didn’t answer the text. So I came across to see you; I’m due at my parents’ day after tomorrow and I had the time.” he trailed off, confused, as she shook her head against his cheek, then pulled back a bit to look at him.

“I wasn’t offended, darling; I just answered the phone and talked for an hour is all. And it was a terribly nice thing to ask, but I’m going to my own Mum and Dad’s for Christmas.” She reached up and touched his cheek lightly. “Thank you,” she said, and slid her hand around the back of his neck to pull him down for a grateful little kiss.

For just a moment, Alex thought Matt’s lips were going to part under hers, and she gave a little sigh. He pulled away gently and cleared his throat. “You’re welcome,” he said, and now it was his turn to speak hoarsely. He cleared his throat again. “Right, well, will you be decorating here in any case?” He gestured at the Tesco bag and the pile of ornaments, and Alex shook her head as though to clear it.

“How could I not after all this, darling,” she said. “It’s lovely.”

“It’s nothing,” Matt protested. “Just trying to brighten up your Christmas, Kingston.”

“It’s beautiful,” Alex insisted, looking up at him. “Anyone could have sent over gifts - Steven had a gift basket delivered from Marks & Spencer, and Arthur and Karen and even Jenna sent cards - but you took the time to... to personalise your gifts, Matt. You made them just for _me_. And you brought me a tree when you thought I’d be alone. That... it _means_ something to me.”

She smiled at him then, and he felt his breath catch. God, she was beautiful. He managed a smile in return, and took her hand. “Well then...” he said, and tugged gently until she followed him to the bed. He sat down and opened the Tesco bag, clutching it to his chest as she tried to see what was in it. “Naughty, Professor Song. No spoilers.” He peered inside and selected a digital music player and tiny speakers, pulled them out and set up the speakers on her bedside table. Then he tapped at the screen of the player until the opening strains of _Silent Night_ sounded, murmured, “...and randomise,” and set the player down. “All instrumental, I’m afraid,” he said, smiling at Alex. “You can add vocal ones if you like though.”

Alex smiled at him. “One of my favourites,” she said, “Can I see now?” Matt shook his head and rummaged in the bag some more. A bottle of wine which he set to cool in her ice bucket, some grapes and apples, and a tin of cheese and meat and biscuits and chocolate. “That bag is bigger on the inside,” Alex murmured, and Matt threw her a smile. A round embroidered cloth to put the tree on was next, and he lifted the pot to slide it underneath. She grabbed at the plastic bag but he shook his head in mock sorrow at her and she subsided. A set of fairy lights for the little tree, another long enough to go round the door, a pair of infinitesimal red high-heeled shoes to use as an ornament, and a string of little silver bells to use in place of tinsel.

Alex watched as Matt took the last thing out of the bag and hid it in his hand, then slid the hand in his pocket. “Help me with the lights?” he asked and Alex giggled and did just that, helping him string the lights around the tree, and holding up the longer strand for him as he tacked it to the door frame. She tried not to think about how _close_ he was, how warm. _He just got over flu_ , _Alex,_ she thought. _Don’t rush this_. As though she hadn’t already kissed him once tonight. But when she kissed him properly, she wanted it to be _right_.

Matt found the situation equally difficult, especially when he fumbled one of the tacks and bent to get it; when he stood he got an eyeful on the way up. He tried not to think of how close she was, how good she smelled. _Raw and hurting since her separation, Smith_ , he thought _. Don’t rush this._ As though he wasn’t fully aware of the mistletoe in his pocket. But when he kissed her properly, he wanted it to be _right_.

They finished with the fairy lights and went on to the ornaments, but they opened the wine and played like children first. Alex took the River Song figurine and the tiny pulse pistol, and decimated Matt’s Daleks, but not before he set up his Doctor doll facing the Angel ornament. “I know _sensible_ isn’t really your style, my love,” said Alex, wiggling the River doll as though she were speaking, “But you can go much longer without blinking than I can. Must be timey-wimey.”

Matt grinned at her, and - putting the Doctor figure’s hand up to straighten its bow tie - said, “Is not. It’s spacey-wacey.” And then he solemnly sat the Doctor figure down, put the cloth Angel nearly in its lap, and gleefully began to make Dalek noises as he manipulated the tiny plungers and eyestalks on the toys. “EX-TER-MIN-ATE.” Alex nearly fell of the bed giggling at this, but steadied herself and took another gulp of wine.

“You know, darling,” she said very carefully, “It’s just barely possible we should have eaten something before we started to drink the wine. Esh...especially from the lavatory tumblers.” She gave Matt a mock-severe look. “You remembered everything, even the bitty shag-me shoes. Except proper wine glasses.”

Matt nodded solemnly and took her glass away, set both glasses on the bedside table. “We’d better eat. And have some tea. I’ll call room service.”

“You needn’t. You brought that lovely tin of food, and I’ve tea over there. Please, Matt... I’d like to just _be_ for a while, without the outside world. Please?” Alex was pleading with him, but it wasn’t necessary, Matt thought; he’d love to spend more time with her, away from the rest of the world. So he just smiled at her and went to the cabinet to putter about with tea When he brought the mugs to the table, Alex smiled at him gratefully and gestured at the tin of food she’d opened. She took the mug he held out to her and wrapped her hands around it. “Oh, this is lovely,” she sighed, and smiled at him over the rim of the mug. “Matt, thank you, I... _oh_ , it’s too much,” she said in a choked voice, and her eyes welled with tears again. She put down the mug and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh, Alex,” said Matt softly. “I’m sorry...” He trailed off and began to shove his chair back to go to Alex, but she took one hand away from her face and held it up to forestall him. He ignored the hand and stood, tugging her gently to her feet and wrapping his arms around her. “Come on now,” he murmured into the wild halo of her hair, “It’s all right.” She pulled back to look at him and he let her go.

“But that’s exactly it,” Alex said softly. “You... _this_...” she swept out a hand to indicate the decorations, the food. “This made it all right. Thank you.” And she reached up behind Matt’s neck and pulled him down to kiss him.

 _This_ kiss was not the grateful little kiss of earlier that day; it was hot and wet and full of tastes and sensations. _Wine_ , Matt thought, _and tea and grapes_. And then he stopped thinking altogether as Alex’s tongue stroked his and she sighed into his mouth. He found that his hands were in her hair, and she was warm and soft against him, and he moaned and tore himself away. “Alex...? I... I didn’t do this, any of it, as a ploy to get...”

“Into my knickers?” Alex laughed quietly. “I know. If I thought you had, I would’ve thanked you for the gifts and sent you on your way. But if I...” She took a deep breath. “But aside from Salome, there’s no-one I’d rather be with just now than you.” When Matt didn’t immediately speak, Alex dropped her gaze and spoke softly. “Matt. I...” She took a deep breath. “I would like you to stay.” She made as if to reach for him again, but he was digging into a pocket, and he grinned at her as he produced a sprig - somewhat the worse for wear - of mistletoe. He raised his hand so the little plant was over her head.

“Happy Christmas, Alex Kingston.”


End file.
